


It's Never "Goodbye", It's Just  "Til Next Year"

by little mouse (lcwilkie)



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Death, character history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29036610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lcwilkie/pseuds/little%20mouse
Summary: At four years of age, Juliet Butler is living in Ireland under the care of her brother, despite being an American citizen by birth. Here's why.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 11





	It's Never "Goodbye", It's Just  "Til Next Year"

“Son,” rumbled through the hospital waiting room as the fifty-something man called out to the veritable giant who had just walked through the doors.

“Dad,” the newcomer responded, reaching out a hand. The two men, both tall, clean-shaven, and muscular enough to push over a semitruck, clasped forearms before the elder pulled his offspring into a rough hug.

It only lasted a second though, as the small girl with blonde pigtails came barrelling towards the two of them yelling “Brother!” as joyously as only a four-year-old can.

“Hey, Jules!” The younger man reached down to pick up the tiny child now clinging to his leg. She responded by wrapping her arms as far around his neck as she could and burrowing into his shoulder.

The father of the two – the girl might have barely been knee high compared to the men in her family, but she had the same eyes – smiled sadly at the pair. He’d done most things sadly lately. Watching one’s wife fade away in a hospital bed was never anyone’s idea of a good time.

“Travel well? No trouble getting away from work?” he asked, leading the way down the pale blue hallway, well polished shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor.

“Travel was fine. Security didn’t much like me, but that’s nothing new. I’m between jobs at the moment. Working out, mostly. Refreshing some skills.”

“Refreshing skills? You’ve been out of the Academy, what, seven years? You haven’t exactly been slouching in your career, and haven’t suffered any grievous injury lately. What skills could you possibly need to refresh?”

Butler – Butler the younger, that is, as opposed to his father, who usually went by Lefty to everyone not family, for both his habit of cocking his left elbow out when shooting and a shortened form of his title of Lieutenant – smiled a little. As if his dad didn’t know exactly how long ago his eldest child and only son had graduated as the youngest ever Blue Diamond.

“You haven’t heard? Artemis Fowl contacted Madam Ko. Seems his wife’s just hit the four month mark of her pregnancy. He wanted to make sure there would be someone suitable ready to go when she’s due this September.”

“The Fowl’s, eh?” Alastair “Lefty” Butler stopped in the middle of the hall to turn towards his son. “I’m proud of you, Dom,” he said quietly. Then had a quick chuckle at his son’s involuntary and barely noticeable wince. “You do know I chose your name, right? I can call you by it whenever I want.”

“But none of the staff here have that honor.”

“I do!” piped up a small voice from Butler’s arms. He glanced down at his sister, having almost forgotten he was carrying her. Forty pounds was hardly worth noting for him.

“Yes, you do. But remember, it’s a secret, just for family, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded and laid her head back on his shoulder. She’d do anything he asked. Her brother was the _best_. He gave the best hugs and piggy back rides and presents. He usually brought her a toy or a treat when he came to visit. But even at four years old, Juliet Butler knew this visit wasn’t for her. It was for Mama, in room 407.

Which the somber party soon reached.

Butler knew all sons thought of their father as invincible, as a superhero, as the strongest man alive. He also knew his father was much closer to all those things than little Johnny’s dad Tim who worked in construction, or any other parent that was the focus of a child’s hero worship. So when Butler saw his father hesitate before opening the door, saw him take a deep breath and brace himself, that was what prepared him much more than his father’s command telling him to do the same before the door opened.

Out of habit-turned-instinct, he glanced around the room on entering. Noting windows, doors, possible threats. Guarding his family, even though despite years of training and all the willpower in the world he couldn’t guard the woman on the bed and attached to various beeping machines from what ailed her.

“Hello, my love,” Butler heard his father say gently. His large form momentarily blocked Butler’s view. “Dom made it to…Dom’s here. How are you feeling?”

Juliet was squirming now, so Butler put her down and watched her walk over to the bed. “I’m here too!”

She was a Butler, she’d get through this. She was also a child, with only a child’s understanding of the situation, and a child’s desire for her parent’s attention and affection.

“Well, get your daddy to lift you up here, then, my girl, while your brother stops hovering by the doorframe like a gargoyle and comes to say hello.” The words were hearty, but the voice was weak. Attempting to plaster a smile on his face and hide the dampness in his eyes, Butler walked towards the bed.

“Hi, Mom,” he said. Only years of control kept his voice from breaking.

Akari Butler was young. Only in her forties. And she hadn’t exactly lived a sedentary life. But her once lustrous black hair was now dulled. Her smooth, flawless skin that had attracted many a man before his father managed to convince her to marry him was gaunt and drawn over cheekbones that stood out far too harshly. Her eyes were the same, though. Bright and lively and dancing. A bit too bright. A closer glance at the IV pole showed a heavy dose of morphine had been included with the various other fluids.

“Come here, my boy. Come hold your mama’s hand.” She pulled her hand out of her husband’s giant paw and offered it out to the side of her bed. Butler stepped forward quickly and took it gently; he could see how even the brief exertion had caused her to tremble.

He stole a quick look up at his father, now adjusting the pillows behind his wife’s head and shoulders after moving to the other side of her hospital bed. The sadness and deep lines on Alastair’s face told him more than a thousand words could have. More than the phone call, only thirty-seven hours ago, could have.

_“They don’t know what’s wrong, and they don’t know how to save her. She’s still able to move about, but it exhausts her. They gave her till the end of the week.”_

_“As in, Friday, Saturday, or Sunday? It’s already Wednesday.”_

_“They were unclear. They likely don’t know.”_

_“Not much good, are they? They haven’t been able to figure anything out with her for months now.”_

_“Years. The best of the best say it’s likely something to do with Juliet; you know how hard both your mother’s pregnancies were. And to have a second child in her forties, well. And if you **ever** tell your sister that, I’ll –“_

_“Dad. Relax. Of course not. Still in Louisville?”_

_“Kansas City. She’s waking up. Gotta go.”_

_“On my way. Tell them both I love them. You, too.”_

_“Call when your plane gets in. See you when you get here.”_

Thirty-seven hours and she’d gone from moving around to barely able to sit up. It looked like “the end of the week” would be Friday.

Settling himself gingerly on the side of the hospital bed, Butler brought his mother’s hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. She chuckled weakly.

“Always the gentleman. How many pretty girls have you used that on to try and charm?”

“Only the one. Only the prettiest,” he grinned at her, and kissed her hand again.

Akari smiled. Even through the morphine she could feel herself dying. And she could see it confusing her baby girl, breaking her little boy’s heart, and killing her husband, and how they all tried to hide it for her. She knew there was nothing anyone could do. So, she’d do what she always had. Be brave, be strong. Be a bright spot, like the lights she was named for, around her somber family, who walked through the dark paths of life. And hopefully give them enough of that brightness to get them through the times ahead without her.

So she charmed her son back, and flirted with her husband, and played with her daughter. She laughed as best she could, and talked. And when all that became exhausting, she sat and listened. Her love was telling their children war stories, and talking shop with their son, who was playing pat-a-cake with their daughter. Then it was her son telling stories while her husband fetched dinner. Juliet told her own stories, with the rest of the family indulging the wild exploits of Juliet the pirate-ninja-princess-dragon and her talking dog and flying horse, off to fight the bad guys, who were also, at turns, pirates or ninjas or dragons, and occasionally referred to as Those Bloody Bastards. Akari was glad to know that even while she was barely able to keep her head up, she still had the ability to make her oh-so-powerful husband wince when she glared at him for teaching their four-year-old that language.

She wasn’t sure how long that evening lasted. She knew that at some point, Juliet had fallen asleep, cuddled against her side, before her big brother had scooped her up and cradled her on his lap, wrapped in his jacket. She knew her observant son had noticed the same thing she had, and Alastair had, and no one wanted Juliet to wake up to the lack of a heartbeat under her cheek.

When Akari felt the tears roll from under her eyes, she could tell it was her son’s strong hands wiping them away, and when she tried to speak to tell them how much she loved them all and nothing but breathy air came out, she could tell it was her husband’s strong hands holding her own.

She managed to open her eyes and smile when Alastair started singing. It wasn’t usually his style. But it was the lullaby she’d sung to him on the nights he couldn’t sleep because of the demons haunting his memories. It was the lullaby she’d sung to their son throughout his childhood, the last time on the night before he left for the Academy and was wide awake terrified of leaving home and excited for this adventure. It was the lullaby she’d sung to their daughter all throughout her young life from that first night in the world through the teething and growing pains. She smiled a bit wider when Domovoi, her baby boy, took up the thread of the song after her Al’s voice caught and he stumbled over the words. And it was with a smile on her face that she slipped away from the world, while the beeping of the machines changed to a flat whine, drowned out by two deep voices filling a small hospital room with a lullaby of love.

* * *

_“Mrs. Fowl’s due on the tenth, but we both know that means absolutely nothing to when a baby comes.”_

_“Yes, yes, and the early arrival of your sister could be part of the reason why she’s now looking at starting school without her mother there participating in this.”_

_“Dad, if you’re blaming Jules – “_

_“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. Listen. You don’t have to be here for her first official day, I get that the Fowl’s heir is important. But you know Jules idolizes you and would love to show off her new backpack and crayons and God knows what else was on that list. And this…welcome event from the school or whatever it is will give us a chance to be share something with her. Please, Dom. It’s only been a few months since…your sister deserves to share this with family.”_

_“Alright. Alright. I’ll email you my flight details when I have them.”_

_“Thank you, son.”_

_“Of course, Dad.”_

And so Domovoi Butler was once again in the United States of America, walking up to a tiny school swinging his baby sister between his and their father’s hands.

Juliet was chatty and bubbly and all over the place. Some would call it excitement anticipating the first day of school, and that was part of it. Some might notice how she kept looking at her brother and claim she was happy he was there, which was also part of it. Those who knew her well though could see that it hid a deep hurt. Several dozen other children were wandering around, and about 95% were doing so with a mother present. Not every child had a father there, but the shouts of “Mommy!” and the return calls of female voices reassuring overzealous younglings reverberated across the playground and into the dark spot in Juliet’s heart where her own mother should have been.

Of course, she did have her Daddy and brother here. And that meant she had the best family in the _whole world_. She loudly proclaimed this to anyone who would listen, especially when the kindergarten teachers had called the new enrollees over to introduce themselves. The girl’s pointing at the two giant men made the other various families present chuckle, before they inevitably began to wonder where the tyke’s mother was and became uncomfortable. Of course, father and son were already uncomfortable with the pointing from the get-go; spending one’s life as unnoticed as possible made any attention at least a little unwelcome.

They were standing far enough back from the crowd that Butler and his father could talk without being overheard.

“You alright, Dad? You look pretty beat.”

“I’m mourning my wife of twenty-seven years and trying to raise a hyperactive four-year-old. After a lifetime of physical labor and injury. Of course I look beat.”

Butler studied his father with a critical eye. Even before Akari’s death, Alastair had been doing most of the child-rearing, as his wife’s health hadn’t always permitted her to spend hours upon hours giving baths or dealing with temper tantrums. And, of course, those same health problems had meant Alastair had also spent a large portion of time caring for his wife. So when Butler looked at his father, he balanced the past with the present and negated the similarities. Which left him looking at a man nearly broken by grief. The past few months of phone calls home had also left him with a strong impression that his dad was struggling deeply, both emotionally and physically.

“How’s Jules holding up?”

“Not terribly. Just as stubborn and cheerful as her mother. She misses her, badly. But talks to that picture, you know the one, taken after Jules fell off the monkey bars and nearly broke her arm in January? She talks to it every night, just like your mother could hear.”

“You taken her back to the grave?”

“Don’t be daft, boy!” Alastair snapped at his son, then he ran a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

Butler glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye. In just a few moths, his father had become an old man. The lines on his face were much deeper than before, and his shoulders sagged where they once stood proud and ready to take on the world. It bothered Butler more than he wanted to admit. He understood his mother’s rapid decline, as much as anyone could. Hard pregnancies, infection after the second, weakened immune system leading to continual illness…until her body couldn’t keep it up. But his father…his father had none of those same qualities. Sure, he’d had a lifetime of injury and physical hardship, but he’d also been in overwhelmingly good health up until April. Then his wife had died, and it was cliché, but also blindingly obvious that a large part of Alastair had died with her, and the rest of him was just waiting for the right time to follow.

“No, I haven’t. I can’t…quite bear to go yet. A granite slab, for all that your mother meant? And Jules is fine with the picture.”

“Have you gone to grief counseling?”

“When would I have the time? School shopping, ballet, Tae Kwon Do…”

Butler opened his mouth to argue, to say that for something that important, you _make_ the time, but the teachers called the parents over with a chipper announcement that they were going to start the tour now, won’t that be fun!

So he held his tongue and followed after his father and sister.

He stayed behind them for most of the tour. Juliet would look back at him and grin, ad he’d smile back, or ruffle her hair, or in some other way reassure her that he was there for her. There with her. And after about two hours, it finally ended. Butler saw the relief in his father’s eyes and slight loosening of the fingers as the swarms of parents and grandparents were released from the confines of the small rooms and reminded that school would officially start in two weeks, see you all on September 5th!

“Daddy? Are you okay?” Juliet’s small voice asked. Butler was grateful. His father was likely to snap at him if he asked again after his health. Alastair had noticed his son’s glances and repeated questions and did not care for repetition, but his family could see the strain of being around chipper mothers being ushered around by their precious darlings. His own wife would have loved this experience.

“I’m fine, baby girl. Just a bit tired. Lot’s of people here, eh?”

“Yeah.” Juliet looked up – way up – into the dark eyes of her father. She saw the smile on his lips, and saw, with the perfect clarity of children, how that smile didn’t get anywhere close to his eyes. “I’m sorry Mommy couldn’t be here today,” she told him. “I know you miss her.”

Alastair tried. He really did. He _would not_ break down in front of his little girl. And, thankfully, his son was here as well. Kneeling down to talk to Juliet, holding out his arms for her to step into a hug. Giving Alastair a chance to blink away any unwanted moisture.

“And what about you? Don’t you wish Mommy was here for you, too?”

“Yeah,” Juliet’s voice was muffled. “But Daddy really misses her. Like, a lot.” She leaned up to whisper in her brother’s ear. “He cries. I don’t tell him ‘cause he gets more sadder when I do. I don’t want Daddy to cry.”

“Oh, Jules.” Butler wrapped his arms tightly around his sister until she squeaked. Standing, he kept her in his arms, and lifted her onto his hip, her Hello Kitty backpack still hanging off her shoulders.

“How about we go get some ice cream, okay?”

“Like, a sundae!?!”

Butler couldn’t help but smile at the unrivaled joy of a four-year-old offered an ice cream. “Yes, we can get sundaes. What d’you say, Dad? Ice cream sundaes?”

Alastair smiled back at his children. “Why don’t you two go on. Have some time together. Soon enough, you’ll be busy with work, my boy, and _you_ , little missy, will be in school.”

“Alright, just the two of us then. We’ll see you back at your place in a couple hours?”

Alastair nodded and watched his son carry his daughter towards the main gate.

“Hey, son!” he called after them. Butler turned, and Alastair jogged over. “I’ll take Jules’s backpack. You two take care, alright?”

“Of course. I’m the youngest Blue Diamond ever, and about to become the bodyguard to one of the most prolific crime families there is. We’ll be fine.”

“I mean it. No matter what, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“Dad, it’s just ice cream,” Butler rolled his eyes as he wrangled his sister and her backpack, trying to separate the two, without putting either down.

“Domovoi.”

Butler became much more attentive. It was rare his parents – either of them – used his full name. As a child he’d wondered why they’d even bothered giving him a three-syllable name if they never called him by it. Then they’d explained his heritage, and he’d understood a bit better. And, of course, it worked marvelously for getting his full attention.

“You know I can’t promise some things,” he said.

“I’m not asking for you to give up your career for her. Just…take care of her.”

“I’m a Butler! I can take care of myself!”

“Oh-ho, is that right? Are you buying _me_ ice cream, then?” Butler jostled the girl.

“Okay. I have some birthday money saved up!”

Alastair and Butler smiled at Juliet, and Butler bent to kiss her head. “That’s very sweet, but we’re here celebrating you starting school, so it’s my treat.”

She smiled back, and Butler turned back to his father. “I promise. No matter what happens, if I have to battle trolls or hordes of zombies, or attend beauty pageants, or rescue her from pirates, I’ll take care of her.”

Alastair searched his son’s eyes, so like his own. He nodded once, and relaxed a fraction more.

“Have fun getting ice cream.”

And they did. Juliet got strawberry, and her brother got hot fudge, and they spent two hours going over the events of the day and all the things Juliet wanted out of school. They played loud music through the jukebox in the corner, and drew pictures with the crayons provided by the owners of the ice cream parlor. They raced each other on the way back home, and made a quick stop in the nearby park for Butler to push his little sister higher than anyone else had ever been pushed, ever, on the swings. They walked in the front door laughing and happy, both calling out for their dad to tell him about all the fun he missed.

The silence sent shiver’s down Butler’s spine and got his soldier sense tingling. Something was very wrong. The lights were on, sunset filtering through the curtains in the kitchen, lighting up the cheerful yellow walls. But Alastair had made it a habit to greet his family as they came through the door. And he hadn’t gone out. His shoes were tucked neatly in the shoe rack by the door.

“Dom? Where’s Daddy?”

“I don’t know, Jules. Can you wait here, quiet like a mouse?” he put her down by the pantry, assessing it as the safest place in case there were intruders. Seeing her nod, he moved quietly down the hall, scolding himself silently for not bringing his gun. But airport security always singled him out anyways, and who needed a gun to take his sister to school?

No sign of anyone in the living room. No one in Juliet’s bedroom. No one in the guest room, where he himself was currently staying. Bathroom door open, nothing disturbed. Lights off and a lump under the covers in the master bedroom. Butler sighed out in relief, then reminded himself to be cautious and carefully inched into the room.

Having his eyes adjust to the gloom, he noticed several things. First off, his father was _on top_ of the covers. And fully dressed. He was a man of ritual; he didn’t take naps like this. Or at all. Secondly, a picture of Akari was clutched in his father’s hand, resting on his chest. Thirdly, his skin tone seemed off. Grey and disconcertingly slack.

He didn’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t.

He had to test the theory. Butler moved slowly towards the side of the bed and reached out to look for a pulse on the exposed neck. He knew where it should be. He knew how to find a pulse, dammit, so why couldn’t he here? Getting more and more frustrated, he moved his hand about, trying to avoid jostling his father’s head. Deep down, he knew why, but couldn’t force himself to accept it.

Until he heard a small voice behind him ask in a trembling voice “Why isn’t Daddy waking up?”

“I thought I asked you to stay put,” he turned towards her.

“Why isn’t Daddy waking up!”

He saw the tears in her eyes, knew that she knew, and knew he couldn’t ignore the facts. For the second time that day, Domovoi Butler knelt down, opened his arms and had his sister run into the hug, and squeezed her tight, whispered into her hair “Oh, Jules.”

* * *

_Akari Butler_

_Lived and Died With a Smile_

_Surrounded and Loved by her Family_

| 

_Alastair Butler_

_Lived and Died for his Family_

_Loved Deeply by Them All_  
  
---|---  
  
“Is this why you’ve never gotten married?”

“Hmm?” Butler glanced down at his sister, standing beside him with a baseball hat pulled low over her forehead to protect here eyes from the sun.

“Well, I mean, Mom and Dad.” She pulled a hand from her pocket and gestured at the two gravestones before the siblings. “Daddy was eighteen when he first saw Mama, according to you. And he chased her around the world. When you were eighteen, you were some hot-shot bodyguard out to make a name for himself.”

“Are you asking if I never got married because I was full of myself?”

Juliet laughed. “No, you’re too professional to be full of yourself. Not,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.

He pushed her shoulder back.

“No, but seriously. They adored each other. You said so, Uncle said so, every picture of them together shows it. So you spent your childhood watching two people hopelessly in love, and then grew up and traveled the world doing bodyguard things. And like, even when Artemis was born, you were what, twenty-six? That’s not all _that_ old, really – “

“Says the twenty-year-old.”

“You hush. But twenty-six still leaves lots of time for a family, not like fifty-one. Dad would be seventy right now, y’know? And I am only twenty. Imagine if I didn’t have my life together. A seventy something year old man looking after his twenty something daughter while she frittered her time away at university. But I digress. Once Artemis was born, you were with the Fowls all the time. And while Mr. Fowl might have had some questionable morals in his past, he clearly loves his wife. So you spent quite a chunk of your adult life around two more people wildly in love. And, of course, there’s your soppy romantic streak, with the novels and rom-coms –“

“Now you hush. Do you have a point, here, Jules? I’m hearing the words you're saying, and understanding them all individually, but not really seeing how they connect to me not getting married.”

“Well, it’s just. You’ve spent your life around these once-in-a-lifetime, be-all-end-all loves. And you’re not the kind to settle for anything less than perfection. So….yeah. Is that it? You never found the right one to be your own one true love?”

Butler stared at the graves in front of him. He wasn’t really looking at them; the frown line on his forehead showed he was thinking over his sister’s words.

“You know, you might be right. Though you did take an awful lot of words to ask something as simple as ‘did I never find the right person.”

“Oh, psh. Whatever.” Juliet threaded her arm around her brother’s and locked elbows. “I think I might be in the same boat. I’d like to marry someone who’d want me even though I might have had a wild sex life first. Or someone who couldn’t bear to live in a world without me in it. Elephants and cows do that, you know. Die from a broken heart. It’d be nice to find someone who loved me like that.”

“Juliet, if any boy – or girl, as the case may be – comes up to me and tells me they want to try and woo you, and starts off by referring to you as a cow, I _will_ deck them.”

Juliet laughed again and hugged her brother’s arm tight. “ _I’d_ like _them_ to be besotted like a cow. Not me. Though I suppose, if I wanted a love like Mama’s and Daddy’s, it’d have to go both ways, wouldn’t it? Although it’s nice to know you’re open minded enough to accept whoever I choose.”

“I’ve murdered people for money. It’s not really my place to be judgy about other people’s lives. But yes, loves like Mom’s and Dad’s do seem to need to be reciprocated equally.”

“Will you tell me about them?”

Butler smiled. Every year, they did the same thing. Some random conversation, eventually leading to his sister asking for stories of the parents she barely knew.

“What would you like to hear?”

“Anything. Wait, no, what do you remember best about each? I heard the song _Daddy’s Hands_ on the oldies station yesterday and started bawling. I remember Daddy’s hands tucking me into bed. I don’t remember what his face looked like, except a bit like yours, but I remember his hands.”

Butler pulled his own from his pocket and looked at it pensively. “Do you remember the scar on his knuckle? Right here?” he showed her where it would have been on his own hand.

“Yeah, why?”

“He got it in a bar fight when I was about twelve. Him and Mom had gone out, and apparently some drunkard tried to hit on Mom. Dad took objection.”

Smiling, Juliet looked up at her brother. This was always the best part of the day. They’d meet up in the morning and drive here together. Stand at the graves and talk, usually for hours, about all topics, but always circling back to their parents. Dom had stories about them, and shared them whenever she asked, but there was something special about doing so today. It wasn’t even a really significant day. Just the one he’d been able to take off work that first year after both Akari and Alastair Butler had died, and he’d brought her back to their graves. And then, of course, after they’d talked themselves out, they’d go for ice cream.

Butler finished telling his sister the story of the bar fight. Which led to her asking about other stories of the situations their beautiful mother had gotten into. Which led to how her father had met her mother, and after a year and a half of trying convinced her to go on one date. Which led to stories of the misfortunes of those dates, and how they all wound up leading to the wedding of her parents.

It was lucky it was summer. The day was long. And it was lucky they were Butlers, because even with the long day they still hadn’t left the graves by the time night fell and the air had chilled.

The siblings stopped laughing and stood up from where they’d sat on the grass at the foot the gravesites at the sight of a flashlight coming towards them.

“Hey there folks,” a male voice drawled from behind the beam. “Got some complaints of people hanging out in a cemetery past midnight. Y’all do know closing was at nine, right?”

“Sorry, officer,” Juliet said. They’d learned a few years ago that having Butler speak at these interjections usually caused more problems than it solved; being confronted by a 6’9” man mountain with a voice like waves booming against the shore in a storm tended to intimidate cops who had been expecting a couple of wimpy teenagers messing around with cheap beer. “My brother and I lost track of time visiting our parents.”

“Ah. Well, unfortunately, I’ve gotta ask you two to leave now. Those graves aren’t going anywhere, and this place opens back up at nine in the morning.”

“Sure thing. We’ll be out in a few.”

“Course, take your time. Need me to wait with the light?”

“Nah, we’ve got phones. The built in flashlights work well enough.” No point letting the officer know both Butler siblings had packed flashlights and extra batteries, fully anticipating being out here past dark.

“Alright. Well, try not to let me catch you here this late again.”

“Thank you, officer!” Juliet called as the flashlight beam and officer holding it turned and went the other way.

“You owe me an ice cream,” she told her brother.

“Of course. Same place as usual?”

“Of course. Where’ll we go if they ever close down?”

“Maybe we can convince the Fowls to buy it and keep it running.” Butler was only half joking while he gathered the last of the rubbish from their picnic lunch and made sure neither he nor Juliet had left anything else behind.

He had very carefully not looked at the flashlight beam to keep his night vision, so was treated to the smile on Juliet’s face as she contemplated the idea of Artemis Fowl the Second, businessman extraordinaire, running a small ice-cream parlor in the middle of Nowheresville.

“Might be fun. Anyways, good to go?”

“Yep. You?”

Juliet stepped forward and hugged each gravestone. She shot a look over her shoulder at her brother.

“Come on, say goodbye to your parents!” she ordered.

Butler smiled. “You sound just like Mom when you do that,” he told his sister before stepping up and resting his hand lightly on top of each stone. “But you’re wrong, you know. It’s –“

“Never goodbye,” she chimed in with him. The siblings smiled at each other in the dark summer night, and finished their reunion with their parents, both saying at the same time “It’s just ‘til next year.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is something I've been toying with for a bit, but hadn't written. I felt inspired today, so here we are! It's my first attempt at writing involving character death, even for entirely made up characters. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, as I'm Canadian, for me (and the UK) the pronunciation of "Lieutenant" is "Lef-teh-nuhnt". Your guess is as good as mine as to why.
> 
> *Fic is also posted on FF.net by myself


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